


Ghost

by FHC_Lynn



Series: Gravity [7]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Continuity What Continuity, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6218371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FHC_Lynn/pseuds/FHC_Lynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took a lifetime to walk and only moments to fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> This deals directly with the aftermath of Praxus. It's kind of obligatory with Prowl, and I'm sorry. Lots of bodies floating around. Sorry about that, too. Technically, this is a prequel, but I think it's best read after Light A Candle and Heliopause. Uh, enjoy?

**_They_ say it is better to lose than to never have. _They_ are full of slag.**

Seeker thrusters echoed through his processor.

His processor could not pick something to focus on. Focusing would mean _seeing_ , but slowly, the logical demon found something to see in spite of him. A brightly colored toy stood out against the tiny, lifeless grey hand that held it. Over the sparkling's body, an adult mech sprawled, also extinguished. One body after the next stood out now against the clean, lovely lines of the familiar buildings.. Grey shells marched into the distance, filling the spaces between the unharmed buildings.

Nothing moved in the city as far as he could see.

Fellow survivors too stunned to react quickly and would-be rescuers arriving far too late tried to stop him, as he crawled through the city’s dead. He had never walked home over these streets. With a vehicle alt came the permission to roll. That singular freedom had been left to him when they rejected him.

The ghosts of seekers roared through his processor, again and again.  


* * *

  
"Really?" Scarred, gentle hands slid tightly around Prowl’s midsection with clawed tips locking together beneath the hood of his ample chest plate. Sharp denta nipped at the edge of one auxiliary sensory panel. "You'll have to be in Iacon for three days?"

"Yes. Will... Will you come with me?" Prowl could sometimes coax his lover to play the irresponsible one. The statistical computer had, in conjunction with the logic center, indicated that the odds stood against Prowl today, but because a chance existed, Prowl could ask the question. He wanted the seeker to come with him. "I am uncomfortable with the recent propaganda out of Kaon. I want you to come with me."

Soft, warm vents caressed the back of his left panel. "I wish I could, prettykins. I'm really tied up, though. If there's really trouble, _drive_. You're obviously Praxian, and Praxus has declared itself neutral now that the Planetary Council has holed up in Iacon tryina protect their worthless plates. And you're fast. If Megatron’s revolt _does_ attack Iacon, you should be all right. _I'd_ be more at risk visitin’ Iacon with these classically Vosian looks of mine."

The artificial personality agreed with that assertion. The spark twinged at the future possibility of being caught alone in a besieged city.

"Wanna play Quadrant before we head to bed?"

"Please." Panels spreading wide, but remaining at the low angle his fear demanded, Prowl turned within the arms holding him and fitted them together, frame to frame. 

Chuckling, the seeker nudged him loose to set up the old, physical game board. His lover's claws dug into the grooves he had worn on the purple pieces like old friends.  


* * *

  
Amid the rubble, Prowl silently worked toward the center of the city.

The demons lay quiet, bound by the certain knowledge that it did not matter what the AI thought of his actions. Death welled up from within, and the mission he had set for himself kept the despair in check. Either he would find the one cold grey shell he needed, or it had lived and turned on him.

**_Home_.**

Near the center of the city, the dead littering the clean buildings gave way to the honest destruction of open warfare. Intent on his mission, he climbed over the rubble. A misplaced hand left him skidding down the ragged slab of a building. With disquiet, he recognized the Secondary Judiciary Services building. What was left of the western face stood out under his blue-smeared hand. He refused to see the grey bodies of his coworkers. Now that he had a better reference, he could find his street.

Surrounded by heaps of rubble and the broken dead, he desperately looked for his home in the ruined city.  


* * *

  
"Why you-- You slaggin' aft-headed, rusted out, underclocked _glitch_! The fraggin' Pit you mean you can't?" The angry mech loomed over Prowl. The big, squarely built Vosian mech glared a long way down at him.

Prowl ignored the unoriginal insults; no one was ever particularly kind to him. He was only a glitch, after all. "Your property cannot be released to you from the Jurisdiction Evidence Warehouse without your case's designated judge filing a WS2475 form. I have none on file for the property you describe."

"Look," the mech said, visibly calming himself before speaking again, "There's gotta be a mistake. Could you help me out? Can you contact the judge?"

"That is not--"

"Part of your function. Yes, for the love of Primus, you _said_.” The seeker shook himself, took a deep in-vent, then wiggled his wings in a manner that echoed Prowl’s. The AI kept Prowl from staring as the mech spoke again, “Do you know _how_ to contact the judge?"

"Yes. I have the ability." His sensory panels flicked irritably. Of course, he had the _ability_ , but that would not help the mech.

The mech's optics watched Prowl's sensory panels flutter. Normal mechs, Prowl had learned, could do what they pleased. The seeker vented one more time, slowly. "Okay, I know you're upset, and I'm sorry I yelled. Can you forgive me and contact the judge for me?"

Prowl’s sensory panels stilled. No one apologized to a glitch. The panels jumped to a high position. "Sir, that is not--"

"You can decide to help someone. Function or not, you got a spark and mind, right?" The mech smiled weakly, holding up both hands in a pleading gesture. “I _am_ sorry, prettykins. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Prowl's optics cycled. His wingtips wiggled in place.

"Please?" the mech repeated softly. Then the mech grinned. "I'll owe you a huge favor. Say a night out?"

"That is against policy."

"Well, I'm bad at following rules. C'mon. Just once, and you'd really be helpin' a mech out." The tall mech reached out to just touch the edge of a panel. Looking all the way up to meet the seeker’s optics, Prowl struggled with the AI for the first time since he had been ordered down to the Judiciary Complex after his rejection. His sensory panels wiggled uncertainly.

"I... I will see what I can do...?" Prowl struggled to say.

The mech's smile warmed Prowl, from the spark out.

**I exist. I am right _here_. Locked inside.**

The Helix Gardens burned.

The gigantic quartz pipes no longer arched over the pathways. Their curves no longer spun together. The gracefully disguised stations that had once pumped life into the cold water and methane, used to grow and preserve the living crystals on their whisper-thin filaments, now sparked the evaporating gas. Its caretakers lay burning among the dying crystals and burning water. And across the hellish garden, he saw the ruin of his own home, leveled now and burning.

Crawling over the remains of the famed gardens, he burned too.

**_Gone_.**

Scorched and bleeding, he crawled onto the devastation he had once called home. Every movement hurt. His body ached in ways he had never imagined. Debris shifted under him, fires snapped at him. He glanced back at the gardens and made his way to where his apartment should be.

Buried, but it was there. It was _there_. It could not be erased.  


* * *

  
Beneath the icy blue glow of the crystals singing overhead, Prowl realized the seeker had fallen silent only when clawed fingers twined with his. He looked up, fighting for the brief smile he showed. The seeker’s grin warmed him before stepping down the path. Each pipe threw down a bright, silvery blue glow. Every brighter pulse of the central filaments shifted the slow-growing crystals’ native frequency.

Every pulse matched the spin of his own spark as Prowl sped up behind his friend.

The seeker turned down a path, disappearing, and Prowl paused, auxiliary panels fluttering. Hurrying forward, hand grabbed his waist from an alcove. Prowl managed a yelp before lips found the cabling at the back of his neck, and denta nipped him. He yelped again, twisting in the seeker’s grip.

The seeker’s low laughter harmonized with the crystals. Shuddery sensations shocked through his systems, body warming unexpectedly. The AI identified it as the first rush of desire. Terror followed, and Prowl struggled in the seeker’s grip, whining before the AI halted the embarrassing sound.

The taller mech released him with a curse and held his hands up as Prowl spun around too fast. Cursing _again_ , the seeker grabbed Prowl’s arm before that stumble knocked him to the ground. “Whoa, whoa! Sorry! I just -- Yeah, okay. Shouldn’t’ve grabbed you! You’re gorgeous, and I thought -- Yeah, frag what I thought. I’m sorry. Look, don’t run, please. I’m sorry!”

Prowl shivered in the mech’s hold, venting hard as he and the damned AI both fought to react. He looked up at the seeker, auxiliary panels lowered tight to his back. The mech watched his wings, biting his lower lip. When he met Prowl’s gaze, the seeker lifted a hand to touch Prowl’s face, each movement slow and deliberate. Prowl watched the hand and held himself still. One claw tip traced the line of his cheek. He looked back up at the seeker. “Wow,” the other said, voice soft and drawn, “Okay. I get it. I think. Primus. You’re beautiful in this light, you know. I wanted to touch you, and you’re… It’s weird in there, huh? Right. So, I can get around that. I think. C’mon. We’ll sit over there. Listen to the garden sing. Okay?”

Prowl fluttered his panels around the AI’s iron control. He moved them up and spread them wide, and the seeker smiled at him and let him go. They sat together in the soft glow of the arches passing tightly overhead. The crystals inside sang just for him.

**I never existed. I was never there. I am lost.**

The statistical computer calculated terrifyingly low odds that anyone survived in the smoldering wreckage of his home.

Sudden weakness dropped him flat against the slagged remains. The never ending thoughts in his mind fell silent. Even without the demon's endless spill of angles and odds, he had known. He began to dig. Sitting within the analytical data: he would be unable to dig through the rubble before he went into stasis-lock from lack of fuel. He continued to dig.

The AI laid silent in his mind as his available energy resources dwindled with each fumbling shovel. The aches of his body meant nothing to the ache within his chest. It clawed up his intake and down to his tanks, churning his guts like 

Nothing survived in the wreckage of his spark.  


* * *

  
"Shh. It’s gonna be okay. You don't have to say it. I see it, Prowl. I see _you_. Relax, will you?"

Prowl's would-be lover swallowed his stutter with a deep kiss. Hands on his body moved carefully as Prowl fought the AI for control.

Prowl wanted this. He wanted it without the demons' interference. Charge built as his lover slowly, gently traced clawed fingers over his still body. Pressure built, too. He felt his not-wings tick-ticking faster even as he melted into those hands’ touch. Desperation built, and the seeker closed a hand over the edge of his panels. He pulled away to watch Prowl. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his brow pinched.

And the AI would not let Prowl kiss the worry away.

The AI buckled under the fury as it spilled over. Dimly, Prowl heard the seeker cursing. He felt the mech catch his hands when he began to pound his fists into his head. He wanted to kill the demon in his head. Rip it out and be _there_ to see and touch and move. The mech held him down, hissing, and the undercurrent of fear in his voice made Prowl scream in frustration.

When the storm passed, and the systems holding his demon cycled through a soft reboot, Prowl whined at the seeker. Prowl curled against him, clumsy without the steady, heavy hand of the AI. It was hard to kiss the seeker. Harder to just lay there for rest he needed now. But the mech touched him, _him_ , with the softest touch. And the mech’s gaze rested on him. _Him_. Prowl did exist. And someone loved him.  


* * *

  
Against all his calculations, Prowl cycled online.

He leaned against the legs of a large, red mech that held his head between rough hands. A barely smaller blue mech slowly poured energon down his throat, murmuring softly, "That's it. Be a good mech. Drink up. Ironhide, are you _sure_ you saw someone else up here?"

"Though' Ah did," the red mech mumbled. "Big 'un. Notta Praxian. Coulda sworn it was a Vosian."

"Let's hope not. Whoa, whoa! Easy!" Blue grabbed Prowl's battered hands when he would have resumed digging.

"Find," Prowl whispered, struggling against the drone AI to speak.

"Ah'm sorry, mech. They're gone," the red mech said. Red's hands wrapped over Blue's. The gentleness of the mech's tone made a lie of his warrior's exterior. "There's not many left. You're the only one, this sector. There's a kid Elita's team found in th' next over. Found more outside than in."

"We almost missed _you_ ," Blue murmured and gave his companion a sidelong look.

"Saw someone _'ere_ ," Red muttered stubbornly. "Standin' over 'im."

Prowl looked at the blue energon staining his hands. His own; his internal diagnostics had a list of ruptured lines now gelled shut. He had broken three fingers. The left sensory panel alerted him about massive damage to its delicate instrumentation.

Find, the spark demanded.

Gone, the demons insisted.

Prowl bent each finger in turn, listening to the broken ones grind. He felt the pain only distantly. The red mech watched Prowl intensely. Pressure built within.

 _Come_ , the darkness inside him whispered.

 _Unacceptable_ , the AI countered and rapidly drew up plans and tables. _Revenge_.

Prowl cycled his optics off. Revenge, and then what?

**_Death_.**

"Mech, c'mon. Y' could 'elp with th' kid," Red said carefully. His hands wrapped around Prowl's wrists. His strong grip tightened and would not allow Prowl to move.

The AI demon rebooted his optics, showing only an impenetrable calm to meet the red mech's very real concern. Prowl released control to the AI. After a moment of remembering how, the AI responded to the mechs' concern.

**My designation is Prowl.**


End file.
